Keep Being the Sun
by Rianna Potter
Summary: After one horrific Quidditch match, the entire atmosphere is changed at Hogwarts. No one can deal well with it, especially Hermione and the rest of the Gryffindors. RHr. One shot.


**Disclaimer: **Not thosecrazy disclaimers again!

**Author's Notes:** I wrote this a long time ago when I was in a dreary state; it was probably raining outside with the windows shaking and all that good stuff. Looking back at the date on which I wrote this, it was the 29th of August. No wonder.

* * *

**Keep Being the Sun**

It was the night of the feast; Hufflepuff had won the house cup for the first time in thirteen years. Hermione was the Head Girl alongside Ernie MacMillian, the Head Boy. The cheers among the crowd at the Hufflepuff table drowned out the boos of the Slytherins. Gryffindor had come in third place, Slytherin in second. Ravenclaw had nearly beat the Gryffindors, only missing by four points.

Those graduating in Gryffindor Class of 1998 had been hoping to win the house cup for seven straight years, but it was dropped that night. When the feast had ended, the Hufflepuffs rampaged down the halls towards their common room. The Gryffindors and Ravenclaws broke apart at a certain point and ambled back to their own common rooms silently. Slytherin, on the other hand, created a chant and sang it through the corridors. It was rather annoying, but not nearly as much as _Weasley is Our King_. Not even the Slytherins would dare to utter the lyrics.

Tonight, no one celebrated. No one held the housed cup. No one laughed, no one cheered. Not even Fred and George Weasley could have started something up with this lot. Of the graduating class, Harry Potter, Hermione Granger, Seamus Finnigan, Dean Thomas, Neville Longbottom, Lavendar Brown, and Parvati Patil – the Gryffindors - packed their trunks. As they took down their ribbons, certificates, and medallions from the dormitory walls, those on the Quidditch team were overcome with affliction as Ron's broomstick was put into his trunk alongside his other belongings. Harry brought Pigwidgeon downstairs in his cage and handed the owl to Hermione. She grasped the cage by the handle and gave Harry a hug, no words spoken. She returned to her dormitory with the owl.

All the photographs from the past seven years were removed from the walls as well. Parvati took off the one of her, Harry, Padma, and Ron at the Yule Ball and packed it away safely. Hermione took down the photographs of Harry, Ron, and herself in Hogsmeade and the past summers.

As Harry packed his possessions, he too took down the posters and photos on the walls. Ron's photos still hung next to his bed stand: the picture of the whole Weasley family in Egypt, the photo from two summers ago with Sirius, Harry, Ron, Hermione, the twins, Ginny, Lupin and the rest of the Order of the Phoenix, and many more. His Chudley Cannons poster was torn in several places due to its removal from place to place over the past seven years. It would never be tacked up again.

Harry's wall decor consisted of very little. His only photos were the ones of his parents, one with Sirius, and one with Ron and Hermione. The last captured the figures of himself, Cedric, Krum, Cho, Fleur, Ron, Hermione, and Parvati before the final task of the Triwizard Tournament. The Triwizard photo had the eight of them in a group together grinning broadly. Just like the first Order of the Phoenix, none of them had known what was to come in the near or extended future.

After the dormitory walls were cleared of all remnants, and everyone had finished packing, Dean Thomas helped Harry pack Ron's trunk and lugged it downstairs into the common room. The common room, packed with trunks and cages, was silent. The lost house cup was not the only cause; yesterday's match on the Quidditch pitch had silenced the whole school. Nothing like this had happened in three years at Hogwarts.

Harry and Dean took a seat on the couches. One by one, Seamus, Neville, Hermione, Ginny, Lavendar, and Parvati came and sat down alongside their fellow Gryffindors. No one spoke, no one even looked up. Harry took Ginny's hand, and she smiled weakly. Hermione wiped her eyes dry. Neville was shaking. Dean and Seamus were devastated. Lavendar and Parvati were going to tears.

Professor McGonagall arrived in the common room shortly after the gathering, announcing some end-of-term notices, and left silently. Hermione stood up to follow her, and left through the portrait hole. Lavendar and Parvati followed Dean, Seamus, and Neville in pursuit up the stairs. Ginny let go of Harry's hand and went out the portrait hole. Harry leaned his head back and closed his eyes. It hurt him, Hermione, and Ginny the most out of everyone at Hogwarts to remember that fatal day. The last thing he'd said to them was something he would have regretted saying if he knew what was ahead of him - "We'll win this one, even if we have to die for it."

_Even if we have to die for it_. Those words taunted him like fire as he dwelled even more on the past few days. He knew it wasn't his nor Hermione's fault, but somehow, he felt like it was. His dwelling led him to tiredness, and he drifted off to sleep on the common room couch.

* * *

Hermione sat up in her bed with her wand in hand, lit to the maximum. Lavendar and Parvati were already asleep. Quietly, she got up, opened her trunk, and dug out her journal and photo album. Climbing back into bed, she pulled the covers up to her chest and sat up against the headboard. Turning the pages of her journal for the past seven years (which was already quite thick), she skimmed paragraph after paragraph for the one entry she was looking for - the Yule Ball.

She ceased to find it, but she came across an entry from two years ago - the night of Sirius's death. Her eyes sprung tears as she read her own handwriting covered with both dry and wet teardrops.

_June 7th, 1996_

_Long past midnight, Sirius fell to the veil. I doubt we shall ever see him again._

_Every year becomes worse, but no one will be lost again. Harry's mind must be spinning. I feel even worse for him, he has no one left to turn to. I hope it gets better for him. Ron's the only fortunate one, he has a whole group of people to depend on._

_I need sleep. Things will be better tomorrow, I hope._

As she returned to looking for the Yule Ball entry, she noticed the corner of a photo sticking out from a page halfway through the journal. She held it by that corner and lifted the pages before it up. The photo belonged to a page marked with the date of May 26th, 1995 - the night of the Triwizard Tournament. It had been just before the four champions had entered the maze. Harry, herself, Ron, Krum, Parvati, Fleur, Cedric, and Cho were all bunched together. Professor Dumbledore had taken the photograph, later giving each a copy of their own less Cedric. Hermione had been standing next to Viktor Krum with Ron farther over on her opposite side. He looked happy, but just happy enough to meet anyone else's standards. He had a look in his eyes that seemed to tell Hermione that his heart had been broken. It told her that only one could repair it - herself.

She grabbed her photo album, flipping through the many photos that she had collected over the past years. She searched on until she came upon what she was looking for - Hogsmeade. In her third year, Harry had been unable to attend Hogsmeade. It had left her and Ron to go around by themselves, and it had been very awkward. Their second visit to the village around Christmas time had been chaos. After Malfoy getting pummeled with snow, and just before Harry had overheard a conversation in the Three Broomsticks, the three of them had a picture taken by an old witch when they were passing by Scrivenshaft's. It had been Harry on the left, Hermione in the middle, and Ron on the right. They all had their arms one each other's shoulders, all grinning.

It wasn't until later than Hermione had realized that Sirius had been in the background, disguised as a dog, and it had been after his death that she had spotted it. The photo meant something of significance to her. She couldn't express it, however.

Light-footed, she went out of her dormitory and down into the common room. She was about to throw a stone from the jar on the wooden table at Harry's dormitory door, but before she got a chance, she tripped over someone's legs sticking out from the couch. Harry stirred, but remained asleep. She shook him lightly on the shoulder, waiting for him to arouse.

He slowly opened his eyes and beamed up at her. He was too tired to say anything, he just mumbled some nonsense, while in the process of falling back to sleep. She prodded him on the shoulder to keep him from drifting. He weakly glared up at her, but then saw the emotion in her face. It was the same emotion as the night after the Quidditch match, right after the news had been released. Harry stopped glaring and waited for Hermione to continue on with whatever she had awoken him for.

She held out a photo close to Harry's face. He gripped it to get a better look and Hermione let go, allowing him to examine it. Watching his eyes scan the photo with pain made Hermione go to tears. Silent, flooding tears streamed down her face, letting onto her night jacket. She sniffed and Harry looked up at her, only just realizing that she was crying. She sat down next to him, leaning her head on his shoulder.

Sniffing some more, with her face turning red from the heat, Harry put his arm around her shoulder and rested his head on top of hers. She was no longer the only tearing silently.

* * *

The Hogwarts Express sat in Hogsmeade, ready to be loaded and taken to London. Harry wished not to leave, but had no choice otherwise. Nowhere was the right place, not even Grimmauld Place. Harry passed by Luna Lovegood as he exited the common room for the last time with Ginny. She gave a weak smile, and he continued to give a farewell to any of the professors that he'd be seeing again throughout the summer at the Order headquarters.

The corridors were silent except for the rolling of trunks and the hoots of owls. Harry and Ginny continued walking over to the main entrance, waiting for Hermione to catch up with them. She never came. No one knew where she was, not the slightest clue. Hermione's trunk was alongside the others in the pile in the corridors, with Crookshanks in his cage a little ways down the hall. Pigwidgeon was nowhere to be seen.

* * *

The Gryffindor Tower was empty, all except for Hermione. She held Pig on her index finger, his usual happily hooting was absent. He sat with his tiny beak shut, eyes locked in place heavily. His wings would not flap. The only thing moving about him were his feathers ruffling with the wind blowing through the tower.

Hermione sat on Ron's bed in his dormitory, completely empty. Nothing from the past seven years would have implied that he had been there. Sitting up against the headboard with her legs out, she reminisced her life at Hogwarts, a life that was now ending because of a single misfortune. Somehow, she blamed herself for this accident, the accident that had cost her the one thing that meant the most to her. The one thing that kept her going day after day. Whenever things were difficult, he kept her going. And she returned the favor.

And with a swish of a wand, it all disappeared. It was like nothing had ever happened. Nothing at all in the past seven years; the seven years of her life that would be stuck on her mind until the end of her days. She had been sure that no matter what the outcome of things, she'd always have someone to support her. She felt like she was on crutches and that one crutch had snapped, unable to be mended. She was unable to be mended.

She held her head low in her hands, almost going to tears. But something stopped the first drop from falling. She looked up, as if the whole atmosphere had changed, to see Pig clutching a thin, slick envelope in his beak. It said her name on it.

The tiny messenger owl fluttered a little closer and dropped the envelope onto the spread. She picked it up, and recognized the handwriting - Ron's. She had no idea what the letter was about, but no matter what it read, she longed to hear Ron's words come to life, able to remember. She tore it open without hesitating and pulled out a sheet of parchment, unfolding it carefully.

_Hermione,_

_I don't know when you'll read this, if you ever do. I hardly know where to start, or even what to write. I'm not too sure why I'm even writing this, maybe just to express emotion. I'll let you decide._

_I was sitting outside in the snow today for no reason in particular, and I was thinking about a lot (a shock, I know). I realized that any of us could be taken at any time, so I resolved to writing letters to everyone that I care about (there's the reason why). I wrote yours last because I couldn't think of exactly how to write it all out._

_I'm sure if you're reading this, you aren't dead or anything, because you're well... reading it, with your eyes and all... but that's beside the point. If you were taken from the world without notice, I'm not too sure how I'd go on. See, the reason I wake up in the morning is because I get to see you. I know it sounds silly, but it's true._

_You've got to have a little sun and a little rain for the world to work right (I bet you're saying something to contradict that, though I don't mind). It's like taking the sun off the Earth; it'll die without the warmth and heat. Well you're the only sun to me._

_And now I bet you're laughing because you don't think I'm capable of writing this well (if it's good at all), and I don't care, it's more like a compliment to me. You know me too well, Hermione. I'd love to see Harry try to write something like this to someone._

_Even if I'm gone, and you're still here, don't forget to keep on being the sun. The sun is bright and friendly, the warmth spreads out to everyone. Don't lose your reason for living just because something is gone. You'll see it again someday. I can promise you that._

_Love,_

_Ron_

Clutching the letter, she looked past Pig and out onto the grounds to see the sun shining brightly. She squinted, as it had not shone so brightly in weeks. She turned around and grabbed her handbag, then sprinted down the boys' staircase and out through the portrait hole. She had a life to live, she had keep on being the sun.

_Finite_.

* * *

**Author's Notes:** I changed the ending from what I had originally written, and I like it much better this way. It's not so depressing now; I just had to change it because it's Christmas (or at least it was when I was typing this) and it's nearly impossible to be so down during the holidays. If you review you'll have a happy new year 2005. I can promise you that! 


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